Perfect Snow (Seasons #1)

Chapter 6: Storm Brewing

I wake up confused by my vantage point.

Did I fall out of my bed?

And then the events from the night before come back to me.

Crashing Clement's party. Felicity and Preston. Melanie drunk on the floor. Brentwin Cliff.

Melanie!

I am alert in 0.6 seconds.

I look to my right and all I see is a red tangle spilled over my pillow. Soft, steady breaths tell me Melanie is still deeply asleep.

I lean back on my elbows and stay that way for some time. She turns, and I can barely make out her delicate features underneath the mess of her curls. Even in her sleep she is fighting something, her brows twitching, her face pinched. She looks so fragile, like a hollow figurine that would break in your hand if not handled with the utmost care. I rub my eyes as I get up as stealthily as possible. I tiptoe to the door and turn the knob slowly, pulling it towards me inch by inch and hoping she's not a light sleeper. That door is like an untuned violin.

I am almost out the door when I hear thumping coming down the hall, steps and something else pounding louder and louder.

Oh no.

"Rhyyyys! Get up! Wake up! Get up!" 

I catch sight of my brother marching down the hall, using a pan as a drum just as I click the door shut.

"Who's that? Rhys!" he shouts through the door.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Rhys! Open the door!"

I open it a crack and growl at him, "if you don't shut up and go downstairs, I will lock you outside in the cold tonight and leave you there."

He bolts towards the stairs, and just as I'm feeling pleased with my threat, I hear his voice. "Grandma! Grandpa! Rhys has a girl in his bedroom!"

I shut the door and rest my forehead against it. Why do I even try?

Behind me, I hear the sheets rustle and Melanie stir. Her eyes open to the ceiling, but she doesn't move, she doesn't speak. I wait. And wait some more, and then I'm done waiting. Staying quiet is not my strong suit. "Heya... Good morning," I say. I walk over to my makeshift bed on the floor and sit down, pretend to yawn and catch a whiff of my morning breath. Good God... I better keep this minimum distance, lest I kill her.

She drags herself up to her elbows, brushing the hair away from her face. Looks down at herself. Still wearing the dress from last night, light blue with fringed sleeves. She looks to me like a rock star the morning after a crazy party, but I doubt that's how she would describe herself right now. "Morning," she croaks, rubbing her eye with her fist. "Bathroom?"

"Come with me," I say, getting up and holding the door for her.

She slides off the bed, pulling her dress down self-consciously, averting her gaze as she follows me across the hall, and shuts the door behind her.

"Come downstairs when you're ready," I say, and pad over to my grandparents' bathroom.

The kitchen smells delicious when I come down, and I find a stack of fluffy waffles steaming hot on the counter, powdered and ready to be inhaled. A few moments later, my grandmother shows up with Melanie in tow, who has changed to a comfortable blue sweater and a pair of yoga pants. I've never noticed how dainty my grandmother is until now.

"Now take a seat, dear, and dig in," nan says and bustles for a few minutes around the kitchen. "Enjoy the waffles, and call if you need anything. Come along, Jake, leave them be."